DOI Artikel:
James, Henry: The death of the lion
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.20196#0022
i6 The Death of the Lion
while agitated, excited, I wandered to the end of the garden.
The idea of his security became supremely dear to me, and I asked
myself if I were the same young man who had come down a few
days before to scatter him to the four winds. When I retraced
my steps he had gone into the house and the woman (the second
London post had come in) had placed my letters and a newspaper
on a bench. I sat down there to the letters, which were a brief
business, and then, without heeding the address, took the paper
from its envelope. It was the journal of highest renown, The
Empire of that morning. It regularly came to Paraday, but I
remembered that neither of us had yet looked at the copy already
delivered. This one had a great mark on the " editorial " page,
and, uncrumpling the wrapper, I saw it to be directed to my host
and stamped with the name of his publishers. I instantly divined
that The Empire had spoken of him, and I have not forgotten the
odd little shock of the circumstance. It checked all eagerness and
made me drop the paper a moment. As I sat there, conscious of
a palpitation, I think I had a vision of what was to be. I had
also a vision of the letter I would presently address to Mr. Pinhorn,
breaking as it were with Mr. Pinhorn. Of course, however,
the next minute the voice of The Empire was in my ears.
The article was not, I thanked Heaven, a review ; it was a
" leader," the last of three, presenting Neil Paraday to the human
race. His new book, the fifth from his hand, had been but a day
or two out, and The Empire, already aware of it, flred, as if on the
birth of a prince, a salute of a whole column. The guns had been
booming these three hours in the house without our suspecting
them. The big blundering newspaper had discovered him, and
now he was proclaimed and anointed and crowned. His place was
assigned him as publicly as if a fat usher with a wand had pointed
to the topmost chair ; he was to pass up and still up, higher and
higher,
i
while agitated, excited, I wandered to the end of the garden.
The idea of his security became supremely dear to me, and I asked
myself if I were the same young man who had come down a few
days before to scatter him to the four winds. When I retraced
my steps he had gone into the house and the woman (the second
London post had come in) had placed my letters and a newspaper
on a bench. I sat down there to the letters, which were a brief
business, and then, without heeding the address, took the paper
from its envelope. It was the journal of highest renown, The
Empire of that morning. It regularly came to Paraday, but I
remembered that neither of us had yet looked at the copy already
delivered. This one had a great mark on the " editorial " page,
and, uncrumpling the wrapper, I saw it to be directed to my host
and stamped with the name of his publishers. I instantly divined
that The Empire had spoken of him, and I have not forgotten the
odd little shock of the circumstance. It checked all eagerness and
made me drop the paper a moment. As I sat there, conscious of
a palpitation, I think I had a vision of what was to be. I had
also a vision of the letter I would presently address to Mr. Pinhorn,
breaking as it were with Mr. Pinhorn. Of course, however,
the next minute the voice of The Empire was in my ears.
The article was not, I thanked Heaven, a review ; it was a
" leader," the last of three, presenting Neil Paraday to the human
race. His new book, the fifth from his hand, had been but a day
or two out, and The Empire, already aware of it, flred, as if on the
birth of a prince, a salute of a whole column. The guns had been
booming these three hours in the house without our suspecting
them. The big blundering newspaper had discovered him, and
now he was proclaimed and anointed and crowned. His place was
assigned him as publicly as if a fat usher with a wand had pointed
to the topmost chair ; he was to pass up and still up, higher and
higher,
i